


Jackhammering Tattle-Tale

by serenelystrange



Category: Leverage
Genre: F/M, Feelings Realization, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Humor, M/M, Multi, Sharing a Bed, oh no there was only one bed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-24
Updated: 2021-02-24
Packaged: 2021-03-14 18:34:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,533
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29671497
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/serenelystrange/pseuds/serenelystrange
Summary: Oh no, there's only one bed!Hardison is just a poor bisexual in love with his two best friends who is trying his best!For Justlikedaylightsavingstime- Thank you for participating in the Leverage Secret Santa Exchange this year!
Relationships: Alec Hardison/Parker/Eliot Spencer
Comments: 7
Kudos: 27
Collections: Leverage Secret Santa Exchange (Mod Gifts)





	Jackhammering Tattle-Tale

**Author's Note:**

  * For [justlikedaylightsavingstime](https://archiveofourown.org/users/justlikedaylightsavingstime/gifts).



“Well,” Hardison says. “This is less than ideal.”

“I’ve had worse,” Eliot says, shrugging. “You snore and I’ll crush your windpipe.”

“Rude,” Hardison says mildly.

“I’m not sleeping in the middle,” Parker says.

“I call the side closest to the door,” Eliot claims.

Hardison sighs deeply, and glares at the offending bed before them.

“I guess that means I get the middle,” he says. “Yay, me.” 

It’s a big king-sized bed, and they’re lucky that the tiny hotel had any rooms at all with the blizzard going on outside. But they are still three fully grown adults who don’t usually sleep so close to each other in such a small area. They’ve been working together long enough that it’s not weird, per say, so they manage to all get comfortable enough in bed and try to get some sleep.

The problem, Hardison thinks to himself, is that his brain might be calm cool and collected most of the time, but his anxious little bisexual heart is a jackhammering tattle-tale that he has absolutely no control over. He and Parker have been flitting around each other for a few years now, but so far nothing solid has come of it. He has nothing but time and is happy to wait for Parker to figure out what she wants, but it doesn’t mean it’s easy.

And then there’s Eliot. The complication that Hardison never saw coming. Sure, the man is attractive and charming, but Hardison had only ever noticed it in an abstract way until recently. They had been on a job and one thing led to another, as it tends to, and he ended up having to pose with Eliot as a couple looking to buy into a shady time-share company they were investigating. They hadn’t gone any further than holding hands pointedly in front of the salesperson, but it had been enough to kick Hardison in the chest with feelings. That he apparently now has.

So now Hardison is stuck in a bed between the two people he’s closest to in the world, dangerously in love with them both.

“Your heart is racing,” Parker says suddenly, her voice a muffled grumble in the dark from where her face is smooshed into her pillow.

“I’m good,” he says, hoping she’ll let the whole thing go so that he can go back to staring up at the ceiling in quiet misery.

“Are you having a panic attack?” Parker asks, sounding concerned and no longer muffled.

That question rouses Eliot into action, and he props himself up on one arm and turns to look at Hardison. Hardison has the uneasy feeling that Eliot can see him perfectly even in the darkness.

“I’m fine,” he says, willing his heart to just calm the fuck down already. “Just…adrenalin or something. I just want to get some sleep.”

The others look unconvinced, but eventually decide to believe him and they settle back into bed.

“It’ll be ok,” Parker says sleepily, curling her body closer to Hardison’s and laying an arm on his, resting her hand on his shoulder.

Predictably, this does not help Hardison’s racing heart, but he appreciates the gesture nonetheless. Taking a few more deep breaths, he does finally manage to fall asleep.

The brightly rising sun wakes Hardison up in the morning, the open curtains mocking him from where he’s trapped between Eliot and Parker. He groans at the light and tries to close them with his mind, to no avail. Eliot wakes up at the noise and is somehow instantly alert, looking over at Hardison in concern before realizing the problem. He rolls his eyes and gets up to go to the bathroom, closing the curtains on the way, dropping the room back into dimness.

“God bless you,” Hardison says in relief, head falling back against the pillow.

Parker is still passed out beside him, her hand curled gently around the shirt against his shoulder. He smiles down at her fondly, trying to stay as still as possible so as not to wake her up. Eliot comes back and shuffles back into the bed, stealing some of the blanket back from Hardison. He closes his eyes and turns his back to Hardison, falling back into sleep almost instantly. Hardison envies the ability.

By the time Hardison wakes up the second time, he’s alone in the bed. Eliot and Parker are sitting at the small table in the room, drinking what smells like shitty coffee and eating some sort of pastries.

“Bearclaw?” he asks hopefully.

Parker shakes her head. “They only had croissants and donuts.”

“Got you both,” Eliot adds, gesturing to a plate of uneaten food on the table.

Hardison eats and then goes to shower and take care of his bathroom needs. When he’s done and dressed, he comes back out to see Eliot and Parker’s heads angled in towards each other, deep in murmured conversation.

“I miss a meeting?” he asks, surprised when both of their heads turn to him in sync, as if he’s actually managed to sneak up on him.

“Nothing important,” Eliot says smoothly.

“Are you in love with us both?” Parker asks, bluntly.

“Jesus fuck, Parker!” Eliot says with exasperation. “We were supposed to be subtle!”

Hardison is too busy having a metaphorical aneurysm to register any words at the moment.

“Great,” Eliot adds, “you broke him.”

Parker ignores Eliot and gets up to stand in front of Hardison, looking up at him until his wild gaze meets hers.

“It’ll be ok,” she says, soothingly. “It’s just us.”

Oddly, it does actually soothe Hardison somewhat, and he finally manages to pull himself together to look between the others in confusion.

“How did you know?” he asks, once he’s pretty sure nobody is going to run away or punch him in disgust.

Eliot snorts softly in laughter.

“You talk in your sleep,” he says.

“Most of it was about Doctor Who,” Parker says, smiling. “I think.”

“But then you definitely said something about love,” Eliot adds.

“And our names,” Parker says, shrugging. “We pieced it together.”

Hardison swallows hard, feeling trapped and nervous… but also tentatively hopeful.

“It could have been platonic,” he says faintly. “Like I love Sophie, and sometimes Nate.”

“Could have been,” Eliot agrees. “But then there was the thrusting.”

Hardison groans in mortification and covers his face with his hands.

“Tell me that didn’t actually happen,” he begs.

“No can do,” Parker says, sounding entirely too amused for his liking.

Hardison very much wishes a hole to hell would just open up and swallow him down.

“You didn’t answer the question, you know,” Eliot says, getting up to stand next to Parker in front of Hardison.

“I think you know the answer,” Hardison says, daring to look Eliot in the face even though his own cheeks are flaming hot.

“It’d be nice to hear while you’re awake though,” Eliot says, smirking.

And wait.

“You want me to be in love with you?” Hardison asks. “You’re not upset?”

“Well,” Eliot says gently, “you being in love with me would make this next bit a lot easier.”

“Next bit?” Hardison asks, looking at Eliot with rising wonder.

“The part where I tell you I feel the same way,” Eliot says.

“Oh, that part,” Hardison says hoarsely. Someone must be cutting onions somewhere nearby, he’s sure of it.

“Me, too,” Parker interjects. “Love you, I mean. Both of you.” She stammers slightly over the words but the look in her eyes is sure.

“Since when?” Hardison asks them both, still in shock and almost certain he’s dreaming.

“Since Tokyo,” Parker says, referencing the job they’d done a few months ago that had nearly killed them all. Again.

“Since Boston,” Eliot says, looking down at the floor as he says it.

“Boston?” Hardison exclaims. “That was literal years ago, Eliot.”

“I’m a patient man,” Eliot says, shrugging. “When it’s worth it.”

“I’m an idiot,” Hardison says.

“A little,” Parker says. “But you’re our idiot.”

“If you want us,” Eliot says.

“I need a drink,” Hardison says, moving to drop down onto the bed, sitting heavily.

“Is that a yes?” Parker asks.

“Absolutely a yes,” Hardison says, grinning up at them. “I just need a minute to rearrange my entire brain. It’s not even noon.”

“There’s no mini-bar here,” Eliot says, gesturing to the tiny fridge that only has a few vending machine sodas in it. “But if you still need some convincing, I can think of a few methods of communication that could work.”

“Oh?” Hardison asks, heart racing in anticipation as Eliot stalks towards him.

Eliot just smirks and drops gracefully to his knees in front of Hardison, looking up at him for permission.

“I am definitely open to being convinced,” Hardison says, looking up at Parker with wide eyes.

She’s leaning against the table, watching them with a flushed face and blown pupils.

“This is going to be so much fun,” she says.

Hardison is about to agree, but then Eliot gets his hands on the zipper of Hardison’s jeans and he decides that talking can wait.

They have an hour until checkout, and he’ll be damned if they don’t make the most of it.

THE END


End file.
